


Whispers In Your Heart

by Infamous_society



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-War of the Ring, Rohan, mentions of abuse, Éomer appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: You did not wish to marry Éomer. Perhaps he can make you reconsider.
Relationships: Éomer Éadig/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Whispers In Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> TW: slight mentions of emotional abuse

Silhouetted against the harsh summer sun, he turned to face you. 

You had heard his name whispered across the plains, hooves thundering underneath you. Courageous, stern, ruthless. Perhaps, they said, he would be everything you looked for, like a droplet of water in an endless drought. 

A small smile flickered on his face, a slight acknowledgement of your presence. He turned his back to you once more, soothing his horse’s mane. 

You did not wish to marry him. The man you loved lay in some far away land, watching the sunset in some forgotten meadow. He would never hold you in his arms again. 

The smell of leather and sweat flooded your senses, unfamiliar, overpowering. Dust rose from the hay, clouding your vision. 

Éomer had not moved, standing like he was remembering some long forgotten war. He had fought, led his people, suddenly bore the burden of the crown and he had survived. A sword still hung at his side. But, still, you had not wished to marry him. 

“My king,” you dismounted quickly. The silence hung thick, your ride had been short - you never particularly liked hackingin these unfamiliar lands. 

He turned to face you, leaning across the stable door - a smile dancing on his lips

Eyes the colour of October shadows seemed to conceal his soul from the outside world. 

“I have told you to call me Éomer,” barely a whisper, no annoyance hid in his voice, only a slight lilt of humour. 

But you did not wish to call him Éomer, that was too intimate. The name was a secret not made to be whispered by your lips, poison would fall from each breath. His was not the name you wished to speak. 

“I presume your ride was pleasant?” a hint of kindness and concern lingered in the smooth undercurrents of his voice.

You shrugged noncommittally, “I prefer seeing the sea.”

His eyes narrowed, the smile did not leave his face. He observed all, heard every unspoken word. The words you were too cowardly to speak.The words that you loved another, that your loyalties would never be his. 

“I am aware you did not wish for this marriage,” no anger poured into his voice, only slight murmurs of regret and pity. “At the beginning I did not wish to marry you either.” 

Infuriation flickered in your veins. 

The unspoken words vanished, incinerated by the summer heat. He half turned back towards his horse, tangling his calloused hands in its mane. Silence hung between the two of you, like a deep darkness that crept away with any semblance of hope. 

And for an instant you thought of the war, the terrible silence that shrouded armies in the seconds before fear and adrenaline consumed all. Perhaps this marriage would be a constant battle, destruction tainting the sky. Yet neither would make the first move to break this cruel deadlock. 

Your footsteps left slight imprints in the dry earth as you walked away. 

Your room was cold compared to the warmth of the hall. Flickers of watercolours surrounded you, the sun setting far away over your home. Isolated in a foreign land, speaking a foreign tongue, ensnared by foreign people. The embrace of Éomer’s arms did not comfort you, did not offer you warmth. You dreamed over another’s arms. 

A horse head was carved delicately into the ceiling, its breath spiralling gently into the dark wood. Éomer stood, threads of flaxen silver flowing between his gentle hands, rugged and toned from years of riding and hardened from years of war. Blinking, the image vanished like a whisper on the wind. 

Sweat trickled down your neck, sleep was an unbearable presence. Éomer lay, breathing softly, serene in slumber. Slowly, you distanced yourself. The sound of hoofbeats charging towards you filled your dreams. 

Morning light filtered softly through the window, catching golden strands of Éomer’s hair and dappling his peaceful face. Memories of days spent laying in long grass listening to birds sing as they soared far away flickered in your mind. In those memories you lay in the arms of another. 

You stood, exhaustion clouding your eyes. 

Something shattered on to the floor, you wished you could physically break your wedding vows. Shards scattered the cold floor like a former lover’s heart, merciless. 

Fear crept into your veins, you waited for the raised voice and the anger. You flinched. 

“Are you hurt?” Éomer’s voice was concerned, strong as he stepped towards you. “I don’t wish to see you injured.” 

A single tear ran down your cheek, tracing the lines of worry and anticipation. Blood welled, trickling down your hand, torturously waiting for the blame and the hatred. 

“I am fine,” indignant and defiant - Éomer did not need another reason to dislike you. 

But he did not listen, gently reaching out to touch your hand. Fingertips stained crimson, as if he had drank too much wine or crushed some poisonous berry. Another tear fell, a diamond that landed softly on Éomer’s soft awaiting palm. 

Warmth spread through your spine as his other hand soothed your back - you were some skittish foal ready to bolt. Instinctively you flinched again, despite the secure feeling embracing you. 

“Don’t worry, I will not hurt you,” his voice an anchor in the uncertainty of your mind. 

A broken laugh escaped your lips, “I feel like a horse, the way you are talking to me.” 

He laughed, a breath of reassurance of peace after a battle, “I am speaking to you like you are a person.”

Another sentence, another breath. But the world slowly seemed to crumble around you, all you knew falling away into a meaningless darkness. The flood of tears came, destroying all in its way, incurring the wrath of the gods. 

But his arms remained strong and steady around you, protecting you from yourself and the destruction. 

You thought once again of the plains stretching out, thousands of battered bodies scattered around you. The screams of agony, the overwhelming terror, the blood dripping slowly from your sword. And the relief that washed over you after the fight, the comfort of knowing you had survived. 

He had swept the shards out of the way and was now tenderly wrapping a cloth around the cut. His blue shirt reminded you of the sky in the meadows of home.

“Are you not angry at me?” A whisper escaped your lips. You thought of the screams, the tears, the fights that normally followed. 

He just smiled slightly again, knowledgeable and wearied from years of pain, “It was an accident and I care for you, I have no reason to be angry.” 

In that instant you saw the rider, the warrior, the king. Noble, selfless, loving. You could glimpse into his soul through his autumn eyes, see the desire to help and the need to protect the ones he loved. 

In the arms of the man you had left at home, the skies had darkened, thunderous clouds rolled overhead. His eyes had never shown such concern, only rage and the promise of lost love. And you thought once more, how in battle he had left you to fend for yourself, how his words always dripped with cruelty. How you thought he had truly loved you and love was meant to be torture. 

  
  


Éomer went to stand, slowly moving away from you, leaving you isolated and afraid. Quickly, you reached out, grabbing his arm as if it could save you from drowning in your own mind. 

“Do not go,” the words echoed around the room, falling from your lips like a bird finally being released from a cage.

The same hands that had held many broken swords, soothed many horses’ manes, caressed many unknown lovers, now gently touched your skin. Tracing unseen lines across the plains of your back, Éomer embraced you and it felt like finally returning home after witnessing the horrors of war. 

The morning light shone stronger now, casting pure radiance across Éomer’s face, glinting like starlight in his eyes. The summer heat no longer seemed oppressive, instead like a lover’s searing kiss. Rohan could perhaps become a home to you yet - this marriage perhaps would succeed. Somewhere a horse whinnied, breaking the silence of the dawn. 

Your gaze caught his, your voice weak, “Éomer, please can we stay here a while longer?” 

And he smiled. It was not the smile he wore when he first saw you, nor the smile he bore yesterday as he lent to see you or even the smile he had forced on his face mere moments earlier. It was him, exposed and truthful and happy.

His hand traced your cheekbone softly, you had never imagined love could be so tender and caring, “You called me Éomer.”

You laughed slightly, carefree, released from the chains of a cruel relationship that entrapped you as you willingly walked towards a man that would mould the world how you desired. 

In his arms you shuddered slightly, a deep breath, “I am... I am sorry for the way I treated you Éomer.”

The tears threatened to fall again, but he just continued to smile. He shrugged slightly, as if you had not inflicted months of pain on his soul.

“Today is a fine day,” he pulled you closer to him, as if never wanting to let you go again. “Perhaps you would like to go on a ride with me?”

A murmur of doubt flickered through your mind, thoughts of the sea and of salt breeze lashing your face. But you looked up at the carved horse staring back at you and you thought once again of Éomer with his hands tangled in his horse’s mane, the plains of his back and the hard lines of his chest, his smile that shone brighter than the sun. 

You hummed in agreement, imagining the rolling green hills of Rohan disappearing beneath rhythmic hoofbeats as you focused solely on Éomer’s steady figure, the wind whipping his hair about his face. 

And perhaps your love for him had slowly grown, like roots taking hold without a trace. The cloud of false pretence that shrouded your emotions had disappeared, you did not know when you began to fall for the man who lay next to you.But it now bloomed, like a snowdrop appearing from within the harshest winter’s frost.  
  


Turning, you ran your hand through his hair, traced his sharp cheekbone gently, felt his heart beat under your palm. You had finally found your solace, your home in his arms. You had finally surrendered your heart and soul to him. You had finally found love. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested on my tumblr @riderofrohirrim - check it out for more fics!
> 
> Also I truly believe Éomer deserves the world


End file.
